


Drifting

by thecumberbinch



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, avengers 4 trailer inspo, if u cry its ok, its a tear jerker, there is no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 07:36:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17935556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecumberbinch/pseuds/thecumberbinch
Summary: Tony doesn't make it back from space.





	Drifting

**Author's Note:**

> a little short sad thing for today! I'm planning on posting a couple things in the near future, so stay tuned. In the meantime, take this angst.

_“When I drift off, I’ll dream of you; it’s always you.”_

 

In the beginning, he would think of miracle rescue missions, lucks of the draw: anything to get him through the weeks it would take to reach Earth; it was always _just one more week_ , every day.

One year went by, then two.

 

Tony’s a futurist, not an optimist; he knows he’s not coming home.

 

He doesn’t know what day it is; all he knows is the endless stretch of stars surrounding them; pinpoints of color and light against inescapable, inky blackness; a macabre Van Gogh.

He thought it was beautiful, before; these days, looking out the windows leave him with a bitter taste in his mouth. There’s nothing beautiful, nothing poetic about dying millions of miles away from home, your final resting place in the cold, unforgiving arms of the void, your loved ones left with out a proper goodbye, a sea of black umbrellas watching an empty coffin being lowered into the ground.

 

As much as he agonizes over Peter turning to dust in his arms, he finds comfort in knowing he doesn’t have to watch him starve to death; hunger has become a dull pang he’s learned to ignore.

 

This is what he’s wished for all this time; an end to the suffering, the heartbreak; But he finds himself begging any God that will listen for another chance: a chance to feel whole, to feel satisfied; but he knows it’s foolish to think he can experience his own Technicolor dreams.

He watches the sky drift by; the universe was written in these stars, billions of years before him.

 

The warning sirens become drones that fall on empty ears, flashing lights dancing in his peripheral vision as he looks on into the blackness of space.

 

_“I don’t want to go.”_

 

His vision clouds; he feels his lungs going into overdrive. His eyes slip shut, and he feels the universe close in around him, accept him as their own.

He is but a piece of stardust returning home, drifting towards a new existence.

 

His body drifts on, the arc reactor a small star of its own.


End file.
